In Blue Fields
by B2
Summary: Release your fear and doubt. And let yourself drown. [Touya x Yukito] [Vignette]


To Silverlight

In Blue Fields  
  
When he was a child, he had roamed alone across the silent fields near his home. He had stumbled through the swaying grasses, which were blue like the full moon that shone above him. And the field was blue, blue like a vast glowing sea in which he felt he would drown. He waded further and further in, wanting, aching to sink into those luminous depths.

But he could not. He could not sink because it was not water but grasses and earth, disappointingly firm and unyielding. Even though he wanted to drown in that gentle blue.

So what is stopping me now? he wondered as he watched the shadows shift across the features of the youth beside him. What is holding me back? His hand had moved of its own volition to touch the delicate face next to him, but he paused, doubtful, hesitant. Fearful that a caress of his hand would find resistance when he expected surrender.

But oh, how he wanted to drown in the moonlit depths of those eyes. How he longed to lose himself in the cool, gentle touch of those hands.

Yield. Surrender. Submit. All you need do is but sink.

He turned to him, a word forming on lips-the expiration of that one last breath before drowning. But instead he inhaled and looked away from the incandescent face opposite.

"Are you all right?" the youth asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine." And they lapsed into silence once more.

Long ago, when he was a child, he longed to lose himself in those moonlit fields. But the feel of the grasses against his arms frightened him and the hard earth daunted him. He had not expected such resistance. And so he retreated to the shore, to the dim margin of earth bordering that sea. Even though he desperately wanted to sink and lose himself in their blue depths.

The shadows stirred again, flickering across the youth. Wave upon wave of moonlight, blue, undulating currents like the ocean or the wind in the grasses of a wide midnight field.

He leaned closer, ever so slightly. Like a man poised on the rim of a wide sea preparing to leap into the depths.

He gazed down at the face tilted up to meet his. Wide eyes looked up at him, two moonlit pools. His lips parted slightly.

Drown. Let go.

But that nameless fear drew him away once more.

As a child, he returned, again and again, to that field, when the moon hung full and high. He would stand at the dark edge of earth and take one deep breath before plunging into the grasses. And he would run, his arms outstretched, hearing the sibilant rustle and murmur of the leaves, feeling the blades brush against his skin. And as he skimmed across the field, he would search for that secret place, that place where he knew he would feel no resistance, where he could let himself go.

But he would always return to the shore.

The youth watched him, his graceful countenance gleaming. The youth looked fragile, insubstantial in that uncertain light. He felt that he could gaze forever at that face, peer into those moonlit depths and never find the bottom. And he would drift away, borne aloft by that warm breath, suspended in the waves of his kiss.

Yearning rippled over him, threatening to drag him away. But he clung tightly to the earth. No, he could not let himself go. The gentle blue of those depths would not receive him. The field would not embrace him. He knew.

One evening, he was running through the meadow, the moon full and bright. But as he ran, he tripped upon a stone. He held out his hands to break his fall, but it was too late, he could not save himself. He closed his eyes, bracing himself against the pain of impact. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself floating, the slender grass stems bearing him up. That night, he drifted across the moonlit grasses, the weight of his fear and doubt suspended between the earth and sky. And he floated on and on, lost himself and found himself once more, as crest upon crest of blue surged upwards. He laughed aloud. And the wind and the moon and the field and the earth bore him away, far, far from the shore.

Let go. It is but a release.

He drew nearer to the youth. The youth turned to face him, his eyes questioning. The youth's face was close, so close he could feel warm breath caress his cheek. He trembled.

Yes, he thought, smiling softly, he had deceived himself. It was neither the earth nor the field. It was he who could not, would not yield. It was he who refused to drown.

The field rose before him, blue and endless. And he dove, with abandon, into the waves. Happiness flooded his senses, blue currents of ecstasy coursing through his veins.

"Is this what you want?" the youth asked gently.

For a moment, he resisted. The last desperate struggle of a drowning man.

"It's all right," he whispered softly as he drew the youth closer.

And he allowed himself to sink in his embrace.


End file.
